


butterflies in my lungs

by obscurityofphylum



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Angst, Metaphors, mention of dave - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:13:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23758189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obscurityofphylum/pseuds/obscurityofphylum
Summary: klaus hargreeves was a jungle.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	butterflies in my lungs

klaus hargreeves was a jungle. 

the bath had chilled a long time ago, his fingertips wrinkled and red from how hard he gripping the side of the tub. the water was cold. not cold enough to hurt, but cold enough to leave a chill against his skin, make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. he wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them close to his chest.

with shaking hands, he gathered a bit of the water and pressed it to his face, feeling the burn of it traveling up his nose as he inhaled carelessly. when he pulled his hands away, droplets of water hung from his thick eyelashes. 

he smelled of cigarette smoke and burned paper, wafting from his pale skin like a signal. hey look, i’m broken. won’t you fix me? 

a piece of him wanted to grin, to break into laughing, sobbing hysterics; a catharsis he desperately needed, that he craved. the empty pit of his stomach had been barren for too long, and there was a lion in there, clawing at his rib cage, triggering gnawing pangs of hunger.

klaus leaned back, resting his head against the side of the porcelain bathtub. he closed his eyes, counting his heartbeats that drummed monotonously in his chest.

his body was a jungle. there, of course, was lion in his stomach, but beyond that there was a butterfly in his lungs, fluttering uselessly with torn wings. a bear dwelled in the cavern of his heart, feasting on berries that looked suspiciously like narcotics. an elephant in his throat, blocking him with ease whenever he tried to open up, to tell someone.

they didn’t bother him too much. he learned to live with these creatures, trotting through his anatomy with ill-eased footsteps. he actually quite liked them. the way the butterfly’s wings threshed the walls of his lungs, the lion and bear’s incessant roars, the elephant’s heavy stomping.

they were just another harmony in the melody that shouted in his ears, just like the ghosts. they made one hell of a melody, klaus thought.

the animals had only ever quieted once. 

there, soothed to sleep by the acrid stench of napalm and the ripping explosions of rifles, they settled into the prison of klaus’s chest as he roared, threshing and stomping the earth with agony as he watched the body of dave katz being carried away from the battlefield on a stretcher.


End file.
